Sunday, September 20, 2015

This Must Be For Me

My daughters and I return from the store with a new little rug to place in front of the kitchen sink. Within minutes, our cat, Snowflake, who otherwise refuses to make public appearances, stretches out upon it and curls up into a comfortable little loaf of relaxation.

This is now her little rug, apparently.

I comment to my friend that cats think everything brought into the home must be a gift for them. It's endearing and sweet, and I laugh about it all afternoon. I look at that little cat and think how precious it is to believe that what's brought in must surely be some kind of gift from a benevolent owner.

I think of this cat-like behavior that suddenly seems less selfish and more trusting. It's audacious in an instructive kind of my way for me. I want to stand at the door of my life and see what's coming and think, "Oh, this must be a gift for me," because God is that kind of God.

I want to be more cat-like in my simple belief that what's coming is necessarily a good gift--no matter what the form. Can you imagine approaching the day like this?

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About Me

In my writing classes, we talk about writing with flair, but lately I've been interested in what it means to live with flair. Can I find a way to make every day impressive and meaningful? Just as a sentence turns into something beautiful with the right verb and punctuation, can I learn to revise my day and punctuate it with flair?

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More about me. . .

I'm a wife and mother of two who teaches college writing. I love writing novels, encouraging teachers, reflecting on spiritual principles in everyday life, drinking tea out of my little blue teapot, petting my cats, exercising, lighting candles, reading grammar books, watching movies and any television show with singing and dancing in it, entertaining, eating leftover Chinese food, and blogging. Thanks for stopping by and leaving a comment.